Origins - Fallon and the Wilds
by A'Rion Larent
Summary: Arya Fallon loves her mother and father - one a wily, adventurous mage and the other a disciplined and devoted warrior. The family lives a happy enough life tucked away in Highever, but when the templars turn on them, they have no choice but to run. An adventurous tale of love, loss and the mysterious fate that awaits them in the Korcari Wilds.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: So I've taken a break from my main stories Origins: Hawke and the Wilds, Profiles and A Pirate's Proposal (which is coming to a definite end soon). This particular tale is mostly about the OC I used in APP - Arya Fallon - and her origins. I love tying things together, and this will do just that.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but a few original ideas, the rest belong's to Bioware!

 **Chapter One: The Mage and the Warrior**

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The Summers were always short in Ferelden but little Arya did not mind their briefness; instead she chose to bask in the momentary reprieve from the usually chilly weather. With all her energy she burst past the gilded door of her home and was just about to crash into a passing Chantry sister, when a gentle, but firm, grasp held her back.

"Arya, tackling Sisters in broad daylight is never a good idea."

Arya looked up at the man who spoke with a calm voice, and grinned at his expression-it was the same mischievous grin that she wore. Her father was as much a child as she, and at the age of 5, Arya believed him to be the most wonderful of playmates.

"Your mother would surely give us both a scolding if we caused trouble." Arya's father extended his hand for his little girl to take. "This way neither of us is in danger of getting lost or tackling Sisters in the streets."

Arya gladly took her father's slim hand in hers. They continued their walk down the road and Arya noticed one of the castle soldiers walking their way. As he drew closer, Arya recognized him as the one that always came over for dinner.

"Why if it isn't the devious duo of Highever!" The man bellowed as he approached Arya and her father. "By the Maker, what are you feeding this little one… she will outgrow you in no time, Daren. From the looks of it, perhaps you should be the one eating more!" The muscled man roared with laughter as he patted Daren's back.

Daren smirked and placed his hand on the large soldier's back. Before the soldier could retreat, he felt a slight electric current course through his body.

"Talbot, I simply have no use for all that muscle like you do." Daren pulled back his hand and chuckled as Talbot shook off the effects of the mage' s magic.

It wasn't enough magic for anyone to take notice, and Daren trusted Talbot as a brother of sorts. Talbot laughed but took a step back from his mage friend, and kneeled down to talk to the small girl with midnight tresses.

"Your father is a very funny man, do you know that?"

Arya nodded and with sparkling eyes she looked up at her father.

"Just make sure he doesn't get in too much trouble. We both know your mother would flay him alive if he did."

Arya looked back at the soldier with a stern gaze, nodded and gave him a salute. Talbot smirked and saluted the girl back.

"I'm letting your bad behavior slip because I trust this little one to keep you in line." He winked at the girl and she smiled.

She began to pull her father towards the fountain that she liked to visit often. The friends bid goodbye and the duo was off for a day of fun. Arya climbed up the fountain ledge and let the cool water tickle her fingers. Daren sat by his child and also grazed the water with his palm. He missed living in the wilderness, hidden from the ever observant eyes of the templars; he remembered how much fun he had with his magical prowess, and how he never had to worry about what others might think–he was just a mage living life to its fullest, and not trying to possess anybody.

Arya splashed water in his direction, causing him to snap out of his reverie. He smiled and sent a rather large wave of water in her direction. Her eyes widened as she saw the unavoidable mass of water, and in mere seconds she was soaked. She parted her wet locks and looked at her father with large, puppy eyes. Daren suddenly felt a pang of guilt as he looked into his daughter's lilac-colored eyes; exact replica's of her mother's, and completely unlike his piercing, yellow gaze. However, she had adopted his midnight tresses, and was glad he saw a little bit of him in her.

"I'm sorry…" he drew closer to pull her in for a hug, "I shouldn't have–" but before he could finish his apology he felt his balance shift roughly towards the fountain waters. He plunged in and reemerged even more soaked than his daughter.

Arya's laughter spread like chimes in the wind, and Daren couldn't help but chuckle at his predicament. He got out of the fountain and noticed a couple of nobles pass by with shaking heads–of course they wouldn't approve. Arya was nothing like the other children, and often times got in trouble whenever she played with them. No one, save Talbot, really welcomed the strange family, but Daren didn't mind just as long as Arya and Arill were happy.

"I win." Arya spoke as she shook her hair of water.

"Indeed, this duel is over, I am soaked through and through." Daren stood up and stretched his arms; water was dripping from every piece of cloth he wore.

"What in the Maker's name happened to the both of you?" A woman's stern voice caused the two to straighten up.

"My lo...I mean, Seeker!" Daren was surprised to see her out and about; usually she didn't return home until the darker hours. "We were just…"

"We were burning!" Arya ran to her mother and clung to her calf. "We needed water!" She was clearly being over-dramatic, but it always worked in her favor.

Arill sighed, but smiled as she knelt to be at eye level with Arya. Arya looked into her mother's lilac eyes and was happy that they were much like her own. She had always thought that her mother was the most beautiful woman in all of Thedas, even if she could sometimes be scary.

"I'm sure you didn't need this much water." Arill touched Arya's damp clothes. "And you…" she motioned for Daren to come closer. "You obviously lost in whatever game you were playing."

Daren chuckled and nodded as he approached his family.

"She used the very same tactic that you used to woo me."

Arill blushed and gave her husband a deadly look.

"That would be the second tactic you used to actually bed–"

"Daren!" Arill quickly rose and clobbered him on the head. Arya laughed, but gave her father a pat of sympathy. "Our daughter has already picked up a lot of your free spirit; I can only hope some of my sense rubs off on her."

"More than half the time, it's Arya who is telling me to behave, so I think it's innate in all the Sparrow women."

"Good." Arill smiled and planted a kiss on Arya's forehead. "Now, go play by the fountain for a little bit while I talk to your father."

Arya didn't need to be told to go play twice, so the couple was left to a private conversation in no time. Daren looked at his wife and tried to pick up on any outward signs of distress, but she was as calm as ever.

"Daren… I'm not sure how much longer we can stay here. It's been five years…"

"No one's figured out, why would they start to question now?"

"Some of the nobles have become suspicious. I dare say they are almost as good as looking into our business as I am at looking into the affairs of the Templars."

"I'm not sure I follow, what do you mean?"

Arill looked at her husband and took note of his simple, white shirt, black pants and boots–he looked as domestic as could be. Meanwhile she stood beside him in full armor, two swords at her back, and a cloak. She had never thought too much about their roles as husband and wife–Daren was better and more able to care for Arya, and Arill was a skilled warrior and investigator, and that was that.

Daren felt her gaze and knew what she was alluding to. He had grown up in a rather irregular household, and thus had never really developed a societal sense of what a man was supposed to be and do, or what a woman was supposed to be and do. He quickly learned that there were certain expectations, but he also quickly learned that he wanted nothing to do with them. He was happy as he was and saw no wrong in it.

"That's hardly any reason to think that they might suspect–"

"Shhh…" Arill put a finger to her lips as the clanking of metal boots came nearer. "Knight-Commander Baltic, I trust everything is in order."

"My, my, my, and here I was hoping to catch you off guard." The Knight-Commander came to a halt before Arill. "I suppose a Seeker, such as yourself, is always on top of things."

"If I am to be the eye that the Divine needs me to be, I must."

"It's been 3 years since the last apostate case needed your guidance. Don't you think it's time you headed elsewhere? Not that we don't appreciate you, but it is a common sentiment that you would be of more help elsewhere." Baltic looked at the man beside Arill; he had heard rumors that the Seeker was somehow involved with him. "Unless of course you have other reasons to stay."

"I do as the Divine instructs; no less and no more."

"Of course…" He eyed Daren once more, before turning and saying "may your ever watchful gaze see the apostates even we cannot track."

Arill watched as the templar walked with his clanking metal boots, and then turned to look at her husband; the husband that no one was supposed to know she had. She had never planned to marry, or to have a child, but she had planned to be a Seeker, and that caused more trouble than ever. Not only had she married a man, but she had married an apostate mage. He had taken her off guard, literally. While she was hunting a rather hateful and cruel apostate, she had made the mistake of underestimating his abilities. If Daren hadn't intervened, she may have lost more than her pride that day. It was his magic that allowed him to save her, and his humanity that compelled him to do so.

"We leave tonight." Arill turned to walk away before Daren could protest.

Arya went running after her mother, but Daren stopped her before she could catch the warrior. The little girl looked at her father with a quizzical gaze.

"Sometimes we mustn't tackle warriors in broad daylight either." A small, sad smile graced his features. Tonight they would leave the life they had spent five years building, and Arya would be taken away from everything she ever knew.

Arya nodded even if she didn't fully understand. She knew her family was different, but she didn't realize how different until the night they fled Highever.


	2. Chapter 2: The Templar's Pursuit

A/N: I know this consists mostly of OC's, but fear not of course I'm going to drag in some familiar faces! Thanks for reading, and expect a chapter in Origins: Hawke and the Wilds fairly soon!

 **Chapter 2: The Templar's Pursuit**

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Arill walked at a brisk pace back home, and ever so often looked to the shadows for any enemies that might be trailing her. Baltic was never one for casual talk, and their encounter this morning had served as a warning. Although she and Daren had taken painstaking measures to hide the magic in his blood, their quiet town life was coming to an end. She rounded another corner and used the darkness to her advantage; just because she couldn't see the enemy, didn't mean they weren't there. The seeker slid past her home's gate and walked to the far left where a door led to a cellar.

It wasn't to her preference that her daughter and husband be subjected to living in such conditions, but it was a necessary precaution. She wasn't always home to protect her family, and Daren had enchanted the passageway to keep out intruders.

She walked into the dimly lit area and saw Daren juggling several balls of fire as their daughter sat in mild amusement, it was a trick he played too often.

"Are you ready to leave?" Arill kept her voice at a low, stern whisper.

"But of course, we've got all we'll need." Daren stopped his juggling to place the flames on a nearby brazier and smiled confidently at his wife while raising a small bag that was no doubt enchanted. "Arya even has her special cloak on." He had pride in his strange, yet useful, magical inventions, and Arya's cloak was amongst his greatest creations aside from the child herself.

Arill nodded, the satchel he carried was small, but she trusted her husband's magic to have stored more in there than met the eye. His oddities had at first repelled the Seeker as she had been taught to view magic as an act against the Maker, but it was the strange gifts he crafted for her that had eventually shown her the beauty and innocence that magic could be. She looked to the back wall and approached the claymore that was resting on a mantle. The sword had been passed down generation to generation in her family, and it was the only thing she had of her mother's that she still carried. She took off the two swords that she usually equipped and single handedly lifted the large, broad sword from its resting place. The metal seemed to sing when she raised it; her husband had once commented that lyrium had been woven into the steel and that's why it made such a sound.

"Let's head out." She swiftly place the sword on her back and lifted Arya into her arms.

"Are you sure you don't want me to carry her?" Daren asked as he threw one last circle of cheese into the bag. "I doubt this bag weighs as much as that colossal sword."

"I'm fine… plus you have that tendency of…" Arill hated pointing out her lover's clumsiness.

"Falling and tripping over things that aren't even there, I know." He sighed but offered her a reassuring smile. "Alright well let's head out then, and remember Arya," he placed a finger to his lips.

The child mimicked her father and smiled at him. She wasn't sure what was happening or why they were leaving, but her father had said that tonight they would be playing a game and silence was the key to winning.

The family exited their home as quietly as they could and Arill led them through empty streets. There was no wind and it seemed that even the insects were holding their breath; Daren had never experienced a night so still, and it unnerved him to some degree. They approached the border of the town and were nearing a nearby forest that Arill had decided they would trek through instead of remaining on the King's trail.

"We made it," Daren smiled and took a look back at Arill only to have his heart race. Behind Arill was a small army of templars on horses and leading them was Baltic.

Arill didn't need to turn back to know what her husband had seen, and she steeled her will as she took off at a full sprint towards the woods. Daren followed, and created a large ice wall behind them to throw off their pursuers. His wife moved incredibly quick for someone carrying a child and a gigantic sword, but Daren knew they could not outrun several men on horses for very long.

They traveled further into the woods, and Daren saw that the path up ahead split into two. He had cast a darkening spell that would leave the men blind for a while, but it only bought them a small amount of time. The mage ran forward and was about to catch up to his family when a gnarled root caught the tip of his shoe and he rolled on the ground. Arill heard his body thump and stopped her flight to assist her love.

"I won't be able to outrun them." Daren muttered but the smile in his eyes never left. "You should take Arya and run… she'll be safer with you. Neither of you have magic in your blood; it's only because of me that we can't live in peace."

"Don't be stupid…" Arill wouldn't hear of her partner giving up.

"Daddy you said we were playing the quiet game… why are you and mommy running?" Arya was trying her best to remain calm, but the panic in her heart told her that not everything was alright.

"Yes well, Daddy would have liked it if there was no running involved but there are people who have come to spoil our game…. bad men with little patience or understanding." He ruffled Arya's hair, "please… she'll need a mother more than a father." He bit his lip as the sentence settled between him and Arill; of course he didn't believe in such nonsense, but he would do anything to save his wife and child.

Arill smacked the mage on his head and sighed, "well then that would be you… you've raised Arya up until now, so here's what you will do," Arill could only think of one possible solution. "You will run with Arya, and head towards Ostagar. I will meet you there."

"But what of the templars?" Daren asked.

"I will tell them that I was in pursuit of an apostate who had escaped my notice, bewitched me and a young girl. I will most likely be stripped of my rank… but it doesn't matter, they will not kill me for it. I'll lead them astray, and then I'll find you."

"Arill…" Daren knew how much being a Seeker meant to the woman he had come to admire and respect. "Are you sure?" He cupped his wife's face and looked into her lilac eyes.

She softened her gaze as she looked into his moonlit-colored eyes; he was more than she had ever dreamt of. She had never fancied herself smitten with anyone, and had thought the whole notion of romance overrated and ridiculous. When she met him, she had intended to kill him, but he had nursed her back to health and held her hand as she overcame the trauma of her near-death experience.

She pulled him closer until his lips met hers and savored the softness of his lips. He always somehow managed to taste sweet and this kiss was no different. When she pulled back, she whispered in his ears and his eyes widened.

"Arill, I can't…" He murmured as Arill placed Arya in his arms.

"They will not believe that you simply got away if I am unscathed…. please... do not make this harder than it must be." Her voice cracked and only then did Daren realize she was holding back tears.

"Arill…" He wiped her tears away and would have done more if she had not pushed him aside and drew her blade; the templars were nearing them.

"Cast a thick wall of ice again, hurry!" She muttered under her breath.

He cast the spell just in time to halt the storming templars, and then looked at Arill with pain in his eyes. What he did next, he did only out of love, but the shriek it produced almost tore his heart in two. The lightning spell he had cast on Arill would have rendered a normal woman unconscious, but Daren knew she could sustain the pain. Arya screamed in horror as she watched her father strike down her mother and pounded on his chest as the man fled further and further away.

Daren didn't look back, and he used the mana he had left to obscure his tracks; he would make sure that Arill's sacrifice was not in vain. He cast a sleeping spell on his little one and shifted into another form-one he knew would not stumble over gnarled roots as he was prone to do. That night, in the woods near Highever, a giant black wolf strode past the tall oak trees with a small bundle in his mouth and pain in his bright, yellow eyes.


	3. Chapter 3: Refuge

A/N: This is fresh off the press... I literally just finished it a few seconds ago.

 **Chapter 3: Refuge**

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The wolf traveled far, not stopping until the sun had risen and set once more. He had covered a great deal of land, and knew they would reach their destination soon. Daren scanned up ahead and knew the forest that lay ahead-the Brazilian forest. He had trekked there once before as a young man full of notions of adventure and thrills, but the forest had taught him that eagerness could easily bring an end to his life. Although he was an apostate, and a friendly man, the elves had not taken kindly to his presence and had all but left him for dead as he tried to find his way out of their enchanted woods.

With that in mind, he traveled alongside the fringes of the forest; the dangers of the human trail were less than those of an ancient people bent on hating humans. They needed to find a place to rest and eat, and for him to recharge his mana. He had assumed the shape of a wolf for longer than usual and he had kept his child in a sleeping trance. He kept his pace and eventually found himself nearing another set of woods, and these he knew to be friendlier than most. After his parents had passed, he had traveled much of Ferelden, in search of knowledge and adventure-the Korcari Wilds had been one of the first areas for him to explore. Here the animals were safe from poachers, as the nearby villagers believed the Wilds to be haunted and the dwelling place of a most formidable witch.

As far as he knew, those tales of the Witch of the Wilds, were just that-tales that took no form or shape in the real world. He picked up his pace as he saw a dilapidated ruin up ahead; it had provided shelter for him before, so why not now? His paws were sore as he climbed up the crumbled stone to a higher perch. When he found a sturdy spot he swept the dust and webs away with his tail, before placing Arya down. Daren noted how peaceful his daughter looked as she slept, and wished she would remain that way forever. He transformed back into his human form and gathered a few sticks and dry foliage that lay about. Before he lit his pile on fire he pulled out a vial of lyrium from the satchel he had packed. He would need to cast a masking barrier, if he wanted to throw off any templars.

While Daren cast the spell, Arya's eyes flittered open. She looked around and saw nothing but ruin and vines breaking through stone. She whimpered and her father quickly turned to see his little girl on the verge of tears.

"Hey now…. you're alright." Daren lit the fire and sat by his daughter who scurried away from him, but fell as her hands slipped on the cold, hard floor.. "Arya?"

"You're a bad daddy!" Arya shouted as she swatted his hand away from her. "You hurt mama with your magic!" She sobbed as she recalled her mother's shrieks.

"Little one, no, you have it all wrong…" Daren wanted to pull his small child into his arms and explain to her why he had to do it, but he knew she would never fully forgive him, just as he couldn't forgive himself. "Please little one, you know I would never want to hurt your mother; you and her are the only things my heart beats for." Daren pleaded as his child looked at him with big, sad, lilac eyes.

Arya wanted this all to be a bad dream. She blinked a few times to see if she would indeed wake up, but to no avail would this nightmare end. She looked at her father and found that his usual bright yellow eyes seemed to glow amidst the darkness. Daren sighed and knew his child would not forgive him so easily, so he prepared camp and readied their meals. He reached into his satchel and pulled out the circle of cheese and a loaf of bread; it wasn't much, but it would do. Until he could hunt, there would be no meat for awhile, but they had never been big on meat anyways. He sliced the cheese, lay it atop the slice of bread and roasted it.

Arya watched her father closely and felt bad that his cheery grin was replaced by a solemn frown. Even when her mother would be gone for days at a time, her father never seemed to be the worse for it. He was always happy and full of light. He handed her the bread, and as much as she wished to refuse it, her stomach grumbled at the delicious aroma.

"Come now little bird, we must eat while we have the chance."

She took the bread and all but devoured it in a matter of seconds. Daren smiled; if anything, Arill had definitely fallen for his culinary skill just as much as she had for his romantic soul. Once, Arill had been charged with breakfast since Daren had fallen ill, and Arya never forgot the lesson she learned that day. Her mother was skilled at many deadly arts, and she somehow made cooking just as deadly as any art she had mastered.

"You can hate me if you want Arya," Daren pulled out a blanket and pillow from the sack and lay it out for Arya to lie on. "It's my fault that we are being chased like animals… and it's my fault that your mother…" his breath hitched as he thought back to Arill and knew that she could very well be dead.

Daren began to cry and the little girl felt all her anger melt away. She slowly drew nearer to her father and then tried her best to hold all of him in her small arms. She was still confused at why things happened the way they did, but she couldn't bare to see her father as defeated as he was. The mage felt his child comfort him and pulled her in for a tight embrace-she was all he had left of the woman who had loved him, magic and all. Arya let him cry, but saw that he had not eaten his portion of the meal, so she lifted the bread and pushed it to his quivering lips.

"Eat," She commanded and pressed it with a little more force.

Daren chuckled at his child's persistence; she truly was a miniature version of her mother. He did as he was told and ate his meal. The wind picked up and the child shivered; she was used to having four sturdy walls around her. Daren contemplated on what to do; if he made the flame brighter, they would be in danger of being spotted even with his masking barrier. Then it dawned on him that there was a much more practical way to keep them warm and safe.

"Arya, you know that daddy is a mage and can do many strange things, right?" He asked his child who had tried her best to stay warm in the blanket provided. She nodded but said no more. Daren stood up and moved a bit away from his child. "Well your daddy can also turn into a giant wolf when he needs to, and since we can't keep the fire going, now would be a good time for me to be a wolf. Don't be scared, ok?"

Arya nodded again but he could see the trepidation in her eyes nonetheless. He transformed and kept still as his child's eyes had seen her father do many strange and wondrous things, but nothing quite like this. She took a small step forward and kept her eyes on the wolf's yellow gaze. Daren waited patiently as the child cautiously extended their hand, and kept still as Arya pet the bridge of his nose. He licked her hand and the small girl giggled. He lay down and motioned for the small girl to bring her blanket and pillow. She followed eagerly and found that the wolf's fur was soft and warm. Arya snuggled into the wolf's fur and pulled the blanket all around her. Before long she fell asleep and Daren curled his head to shield his child further. He raised his ears and listened for any enemies approaching, but could only hear the sounds of crickets chirping and grass being rustled by wind. They were safe.

Unbeknownst to the wolf a curious raven was perched on a stone that overlooked the strange sight. A giant wolf and a small child, huddled up in a long forgotten ruin; the raven was intrigued. It's yellow eyes could not help but notice that the wolf had the same piercing gaze, and she wondered what manner of creature he was. She flapped her wings and flew a little further east until a small hut came into view-she was home. The raven dove and in a matter of seconds, the once raven, now walked on two legs. Instead of a shiny coat of black feathers, the woman was endowed with long, black hair and the same bewitching yellow eyes. She smirked as she opened the door to her hut and sat on her bed; it had been so long since a visitor had piqued her interest. And even longer since she had need of one.

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A/N: Any ideas where this might be going :3 ?


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